Chapter 54
Placing the small wrap in his mouth J.P hurried home. Getting to the house he looked at the padlock in dismay before kicking the door. There was no way Bailey would be around now so that meant waiting till the morning. Thinking about the bit of heroin hidden in his mouth he drew back and shoulder barged the door. Feeling the brace give a little he drew back again.
Down the hall a door opened. Looking round J.P saw a pot-bellied middle-aged man stood in his doorway wearing an old pair of pyjama bottoms. After a grunt he returned to his room.
Another barge and the door tore away from the padlock and brace.
As soon as the door burst open J.P knew he'd been robbed. Cursing he kicked an empty box that lay amongst the few meagre possessions strewn across the floor. A quick glance was enough to tell him the stereo and T.V were both missing along with the odd decent piece of clothing.
Cursing he wondered who it could have been but quickly gave up, too many to choose from.
Leaning round he hit the light-switch.
Nothing.
Of course Bailey would have switched the electric off after finding the meters robbed.
Lighting a candle he grabbed a spoon and reached under the bed for the box of needles kept there.
Placing the equipment on the coffee table he walked over to the hot water tap, twisting it on. Due to his cluck his veins would be more submerged than usual, by placing his arm in warm water he might be able to tempt one to the surface.
Then, in the candlelight, he set about preparing his hit.
Opening the wrap he was disappointed to see it was different stuff. More powdery, a sure sign it had been cut.
Throwing it in the spoon he added the citric acid and drew up some water from a small glass.
Cooking the concoction over the candle he waited till the liquid fizzed before pulling the spoon away. Watching as the mixture cooled and blended together he dropped in a slither from a cigarette filter before drawing the brown liquid into the syringe.
Getting up he went to the sink, placing his hand beneath the running water to check it wasn't scalding.
It was ice cold, he could have kicked himself. Looking at his arms for evidence of veins he cursed again, nothing. The gear might be cut with anything, he couldn't risk it congealing in the syringe.
The upstairs bathroom.
He might get lucky and somebody would have left a bit of hot water. There was little chance of it, most of the house was flatlets which included a small bathroom. From what J.P could make out the residents he shared with didn't use the bath too much.
Then he remembered the pound Jed had given him.
Locking the bathroom door he looked at the meter, as he suspected no credit. Momentarily he debated breaking into it but there was no chance, all he could see was the display, the coin-slot and the padlock.
Inserting his last pound he turned on the tap, then sitting on the toilet he hung his arm over the side of the sink.
In no time a vein appeared on his wrist. Making a noose with his belt he strapped it around his upper arm. As he repeatedly clenched his fist a thick blue vein bulged to the surface.
Licking the needle J.P slid the tip it through his skin, piercing the vein.
Expertly he drew back the plunger, watching the blob of nearly maroon blood materialise in the plastic tube.
Knowing he'd hit the vein J.P gently released the belt and slowly pushed the plunger back down the barrel.
Within seconds he felt the familiar warmth course through his veins as the effects of the morphine enveloped him. Relishing the feeling he relaxed, momentarily forgetting the day's events.
